Happy?
by Rebecca Parker
Summary: Buffy deals with Riley being gone.


**TITLE:** Happy? (1/1)   
**AUTHOR:** Rebecca Parker   
**EMAIL:** LaVelleBelle@aol.com   
**RATING:** PG-13   
**SUMMARY:** An angsty little piece about Buffy taking Riley's departure harder than she did on the show.   
**FEEDBACK:** Yes please!   
**DISCLAIMER:** Joss and Mutant Enemy own all.   
**DEDICATION:** To Emmy, who told me writing would make me feel better.   
**NOTE:** The song is "Holy Moses" by Jann Arden. 

Buffy opened the door to her bedroom, and even in the darkness that cloaked the room, she could see the sheets tangled on the bed. She stood in the doorway, staring at them; remembering all the times they had laid underneath them. She closed her eyes as she remembered running her hands along his arms, feeling his body press against hers with each thrust. 

She was always amazed at how he could be so passionate in his lovemaking, yet so gentle at the same time. She would stare up into his eyes, always finding him looking back at her. She would often lose herself in it, shut her eyes and tilt her head back and just feel him, but he was always looking at her like she was all that mattered. 

She hadn't bothered to make the bed since their last night together. After what she saw last night, saw him with *her*, she couldn't come back. His smell was still on the air. *Their* smell was still on the air and Buffy had spent the night on the couch, numbly clutching the blanket that had been neatly folded on a cushion. 

She didn't sleep. Sleep would have been too easy, and too hard at the same time. If she slept, she could forget about what she had seen. She could forget about how she knew it was all her fault. She could forget how hard it hurt just to breathe. 

Sleep would be too easy for her. Too easy an escape. Of course, she wanted to. She didn't care if it was the weak thing to do- nothing about her felt anything but weak right now. 

But no matter how hard she wished for it to come to her, sleep would not. She laid awake all night, clutching that blanket so hard her fingers ripped through the cloth. She stayed awake and hurt. 

//I don't know how i'll get by without you  
I 'll be wrecked, i'll be ruined  
I don't know how i'll get past tomorrow  
I bet i'll be broken open wide// 

Buffy wasn't sure how she had made it up the stairs. She had sat there, stunned by the night's events and stared at the living room blankly through the bars of the staircase. She could hardly think; hardly feel. 

She hadn't cried. She wasn't sure she knew how anymore. All she knew was something like complete numbness. But numbness, like sleep, would be easy. If she was numb, she wouldn't hurt. And she hurt. 

She hurt more than ever before. 

She closed the door to her bedroom, still unable to force herself to move inside; to start to clean up after the mess she had made of everything. First the sheets. Then those looks her friends would give her; those looks that said "Another one Buff?" 

She would just avoid them for a few days. Take a "Slaycation". After the way she had behaved in the past few months, she doubted anyone would mind. Just a few days to regain the sanity she lost somewhere in the deserts of her dreams. 

+++ 

//I don't think i told you, i feel terrible  
I've been sitting in this chair since sunday  
In the same clothes with unwashed hair  
nothing moving, I feel unusual// 

A few days had passed and the sanity she had hoped to regain had been more lost than found. With Joyce and Dawn away for a few days visiting Dad in Los Angeles, she had the house to herself. 

Not that she took advantage of all the space she had. She had hardly moved from the chair in the living room, her legs drawn up to her chest, her head resting on her knees. The phone had rang and she had, for the most part, not answered. But when it became clear by the frantic and worried messages that if she didn't pick up a group of very concerned Slayerettes would invade the dark pit she had built around herself, she answered. She lied. Told them she was fine. Feeling better even. 

She wasn't feeling better. She wasn't feeling anything much anymore. She just sat there in the living room in stillness and rocked back and forth in silence. 

//holy moses, i've been hangin' over  
holy moses, i've been burned like a cigarette  
oh jehovah, i've been thrown a bone and  
i cannot remember when i was…happy// 

The word came to her suddenly out of nowhere. Happy. 

"Happy," she said, the word coming out a little hoarse- it was the first she had spoken in almost a day. She stopped the rocking and said it again. "Happy." 

She laughed; a painful heartbroken laugh and then, finally, the tears came. She felt them spill from beneath her lids which she had quickly shut, hoping somehow that would prevent them from coming. The first few teardrops were so full that they didn't even slide down her cheeks, instead dropping straight down to the neck of her black sweater. 

The ones after took the more usual route and before she knew it, her face was soaked with tears. Her throat quickly grew sore from the sobs which came from deep within. The house suddenly came alive with the sounds of her sorrow and it struck Buffy that now, truly, she was alone. 

Riley was God knows where. And alone. Like her. She started to rock again in her seat, wondering if this was how he was feeling right now, wondering if he hated her for making him feel this way. 

//Can you feel my heart beating like a thunder ball?  
can you hear every sound i'm making  
in the darkness, without breathing  
nothing moving, I feel peculiar// 

"Riley," she said, stopping her rocking and resting her head against her knees once more. "I'm sorry Riley. What I did to you- what I should have done. I'm sorry," she said, holding her breath as if waiting for a response she knew was impossible to come. 

"God, what did I do?" she asked, this time speaking to herself, sadly aware that she was as ill equipped to answer right now as Riley was. 

She closed her eyes, shaking her head and feeling the ache in her chest as she began to think about it all. Wonder where she went wrong. Wonder why this always happened to her. Wonder why she always seemed to let it. 

Wonder where the girl she used to be was. She hadn't always been this cold- this oblivious. Once upon a time she was alive. Once upon a time she felt something besides empty. What had happened to that girl? Was she still somewhere where she could be found again? 

//I don't know, i can't tell  
if I am … myself  
if I was a good girl  
would I be here?  
if I was so stupid  
then what was what you did?  
you were not a good thing for me// 

After another hour or so, the tears had finally dried up and Buffy could feel the path they had left on her cheek. She got up slowly, feeling the blanket drop to the floor as she moved towards the bathroom, anxious to wash her face and get rid of the signs of her weakness. 

Once she turned the lights to the bathroom on, quickly shutting her eyes from the first real light to infiltrate them in days, she realized that maybe that was the problem. Maybe if she let herself be weak sometimes, she could let others be strong. 

That was what Riley was trying to tell her- he needed to be needed. But she needed him. God, she needed him more than anything. She was just too strong to admit it. 

And now she was alone, and she couldn't hide from it. She couldn't pretend that he was coming back or that she had been honorable about the whole thing. She hadn't even said goodbye. 

If only he had been strong enough to walk away back when things had started to get rough between them. If only he had said something sooner. If only he hadn't gone to them. If only she hadn't seen it. 

If only. Because now, she was ruined. He had ruined her. 

No, that wasn't true. 

She had ruined herself. 

//holy moses, I've been hangin' over  
holy moses, I've been burned like a cigarette  
oh jehovah, I've been thrown a bone and  
I cannot remember when I was…happy, happy, happy 

I don't know, I can't tell  
if I am … myself// 

She splashed the water against her face and breathed in deep. She felt awake for the first time in days and it saddened her that the thing that brought her back was the realization that her heart had sustained permanant damage this time. 

No going back. Riley was gone. No going forward. Her heart couldn't take it. 

She sighed, shutting off the light and walking up the stairs. Her feet felt leaden, as if dreading the task at hand, but she knew she had to do it. 

She opened the door to her bedroom, stepping inside slowly. She walked over to the bed, fighting back the tears that threatened to overcome her again as she remembered the nights with him here. 

She took a deep breath, half trying to gather the strength and half trying not to smell his scent, and slowly, she began to make the bed. 

The End... 


End file.
